Imperial Patrol
by Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Summary: The travels of the Imperial Patrol Ship "Imperial Reach" in the far Outer Rim of the galaxy. The crew soon discover a massive conspiracy, and become engaged in a battle to save the Empire from enemies both outside and inside their own ranks...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any characters, planets, props or money associated with it.

Authors Note: Well, I promised you I had another story in the making, didn't I? Simply took a little longer to get written than I thought... Anyhoot, enjoy!

* * *

Green and red lasers arced across the blackness of space. The alien freighter's sublight engines roared with intensity and power as it shot across the bow of the second vessel and towards the backwater planet below them both.

The second vessel faltered for a moment after the freighters maneuver, than quickly readjusted its course and continued its pursuit.

The freighter abandoned its attempt to disable, or even destroy, the second vessel and, powering down its weapons, threw everything it had into its engines.

The second vessel, Imperial Patrol Cruiser _Imperial Reach_, continued to target the freighters engines in a hope to disable them.

Executive Officer Ishale Durren braced herself against the chair of her dead captain, her eyes darting across the tactical display in front of her.

"They've cut all power to weapons! Any hope they'll do the same to shields in order to get better engine performance?" She yelled out to her Chief Engineer.

"They'd be crazy as hell if they did," Salth Cass responded.

Durren gripped the back of the seat tighter as the _Imperial Reach _momentarily jerked after another burst of laser fire.

"Range until they're in the planet's atmosphere?" She yelled out.

"23 and closing!" The answer was shouted back.

"Fine. Cass, screw this disabling fire. Target bridge and incinerate these bastards."

"With pleasure," He said. Moments later the order was relayed to the turbolaser gunners, and the red laser adjusted position slightly towards the bow of the freighter. After two successive misses, the bridge exploded as the following lasers met their target. The freighter seemed to jump slightly, causing it to lose its entry position. The freighter bounced off the planets atmosphere, and exploded into flames.

Durren slumped her shoulders and sighed in relief.

"Damage?" She asked quietly.

"Minimum damage, except for bridge. No casualty's except for the CO. Ironic, isn't it?" Jagen Maris, the ships communications officer, asked. No one answered him.

As Durren looked around the wrecked bridge, she silently agreed with him.

It was bloody ironic.

* * *

The _Imperial Reach, _or simply _IReach_ as the crew called her, limped back to the nearest Imperial star base. Durren ordered the CO's body to be packed for burial, and took over duties as the commanding officer. After all these years, she was used to it. The _IReach_ had its fair share of captains lately.

None of them had lasted more than a year.

It wasn't their fault, Durren told herself. Some people were built for the outer rim territories, and some weren't. It seemed that more often than not, the idiots that Command sent weren't.

But stick them on an Acclamator, or Star Destroyer, or hell even a patrol ship in the Core and they would succeed. But not here.

They just weren't built for it.

Core born and bred, with a silver spoon in their mouth since childhood. These men were born to become officers, whether or not they had any skill or not. Durren had seen it dozens of times before, and not just while serving as the _IReach's_ XO.

The one true fault with the New Order, Durren believed, was it never went far enough to destroy corruption like that in the Military. And people like Durren and the crew of the _IReach_ had to pay for it.

Durren cast her eyes around the bridge at the crew working around her in crowded conditions. The _IReach_ was a large ship, but most of the space was wasted as cargo space. The bridge itself was barely large enough for the crew required on it. She glanced briefly at each of the four men and women under her control and sighed.

How the commanders of thousands or even millions could stand the pressure was beyond her knowledge.

Although based on her personal experience with said commanders, they simply didn't care for those under their command.

And that made her sick.

"Ma'am, Annaj shipyards report they won't be able to see us for another 3 standard days." Nikki Chasta, ships helm and navigator, interrupted after reading the transmission from Maris.

"Great, just what we needed. Fine, slow us down. No need to get there in a rush if can't do anything yet."

"Oh great. Just in time for the body to start to stink." Maris said without looking up from his display. Durren rolled her eyes at him.

Other members of the crew were slightly more agitated by the comment.

Aldor Goran, ships Mechanical Technician, slapped him on the arm. "C'mon, show some respect for the man." He said.

"As long as he shows respect for my nostrils, we won't have a problem." Maris countered.

"How can somebody that spends so much time talking to people be so bad at talking to people?" Goran asked, shaking his head and diverting his attention elsewhere.

"Think they'll try to assign a new CO to us, or just give you command, Ex?" Chasta asked her.

Durren snorted. "Who says I want it? Besides, I'm sure it will take Command some time to get someone transferred down here so I'll be in charge for a little bit more."

"Palpatine help us," Cass muttered under his breath.

Durren smiled slightly. "Back to your engines, Chief Petty Officer." She dead panned.

The engineer gave a mock salute, and went back to his display.

Despite her answer in front of the crew, there was nothing else in the galaxy she wanted more than her own command. It was something she had some experience in, and something she considered herself rather good at.

After all, it wasn't her that ordered the _IReach_ to drop shields in order to board that smuggler. It had been the captain. He had ordered the smugglers to cut engines, drop shields and cut power from their weapons. The smuggler readily agreed, and heaved-to to the Imperial ship. The idiot CO-what was his name again?- ordered their own shields dropped in order to launch the obsolete TIE's, or attach a docking tube or kriff knows what. Cass warned him that the freighter was powering up weapons but the CO insisted that "gentlemen don't break gentlemen's agreements."

A lot of good it did him. The smuggler hit the bridge with his first shot, causing a power overload in some circuit that shorted out the command console, sending bolts of electricity firing from it and towards the nearest outlet, which ended up being the CO himself.

He was dead as soon as it hit him. Cass immediately powered shields and weapons, but the smuggler had already gained the advantage and was aiming for the planet below with everything it had. Durren ordered the _IReach_ to engage and follow, and ended up destroying the smugglers.

She wondered briefly whether to have Goran take a look at the console now, or wait until they reached Annaj… She decided that it wasn't going to do them any good sooner rather than later, and decided just to have him wait. When they reached the repair station, she would have them do a complete re-haul of the ships systems. That should make Cass happy, at least.

Durren rubbed her eyes.

"Tired, Ex?" Chasta asked her.

Durren faked a smile and lied.

"No, just the smoke from earlier is still bother my eyes."

Chasta smiled at her poor attempt at lying, but said nothing.

"Ma'am, incoming transmission from Annaj. Shall I patch them through to a private comm?" Maris interrupted the silence.

Durren sighed. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll take it in the C - the command office."

Maris nodded, and Durren sat up from her chair and straightened her uniform.

"Chasta, you have the bridge."

"Navigator has the bridge, Ma'am."

Durren walked across the rubble of the bridge towards the turbolift at the end, and keyed it for C deck.

* * *

The command office was in actuality the CO's office. And since Durren was acting CO of the _IReach_, she had every right to be in there.

But for some reason, she felt weird being in it. Like she was in a graveyard, almost. Messing with the belongings of a dead man.

She shook the feeling away, and pulled a pair of radio headphones over her head, and answered the beeping comm signal.

"Durren, go ahead." She said.

"Lieutenant, this is NavCom here on Annaj. We've received your report, and you and your crew have my condolences. It can't be easy losing a Commanding Officer like that."

"We didn't know him very long, sir." Durren said, and instantly regretted it.

"Right, well, we've got a replacement for you as soon as you're ready. What's the _Imperial Reach_'s condition?"

"Bridge is a mess, sir, and I wanted to get an overhaul on some of our systems while docked. I've been told there's a three day wait?"

The man on the other line sighed. "That's right. Moff Riiza's got the only spaceport crowded up with who knows what. I'm trying to shift things around, and get you in there as soon as possible. How soon can you be here?"

"I figured we had time, so a slated it for a three day trip."

"Well change it. Push your engines for everything Cass can give them, and get here ASAP."

"Is there a particular reason why, sir?" Durren asked him.

"We'll discuss it when you get here, Lieutenant. NavCom out." The line went dead.

Durren rubbed her tired eyes again before reaching over to the intercom panel.

"Durren to the bridge;"

"Bridge here." The voice of Nikki Chasta came online.

"Nikki, get Cass to push those engines as hard as he safely and quickly as possible. Let's get to Annaj as soon as we can."

"Change in plans, Ex?"

Durren sighed. "Something like that," she said.

Chasta relayed her orders, and Durren pushed the intercom button again, severing the connection. She leaned back in her chair, and thought back to her conversation with NavCom:

_We've got a replacement for you as soon as you're ready,_ she was told. She just hoped that it wasn't another idiot from the Core.

She closed her eyes, and clasped her hands behind her head, and letting them rest on her hair.

It was going to be a long couple of days, she knew. She had to break in a new CO, get repairs done for the _IReach_, and still had yet to receive her new orders.

It was going to be a long couple of days indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Lucas Arts, or an Imperial Patrol Ship.

* * *

Ishale Durren nodded to her communications officer, Jagen Maris.

"Annaj Station, this is Imperial Patrol Ship, 13 clicks at 071 degrees." He said into the comm in front of him.

Several minutes of static later, Durren glanced up at the bridge chrono.

"Try them again," She suggested.

Maris sighed. "Annaj Station, this is Imperial Patrol Ship, 13 clicks at 071 degrees. Are you receiving?"

More static.

"Friendly, aren't they?" Mechanical Technician Aldor Goran commented.

"Maybe they're just shy," Nikki Chasta, ships navigator, teased.

"Maris, one more time. If they don't respond, tell them we're coming in anyway."

"Annaj Station, this is Imperial Patrol Ship, 13 cl-"

"Imperial Patrol Ship, this is Annaj Station. Please hold,"

Durren sighed, and checked the chrono again.

"At least they know we're here now."

"Look at the size of some of those freighters," Salth Cass, Chief Engineer, pointed out the view screen.

"Z-120's?" Goran suggested.

"More like the old -15's. Sturdy enough, but slower than Bantha shit."

Durren tried to suppress a grin.

"I never understood that, Cass." Maris absently said.

"You know, Bantha shit." Cass responded.

"You say that like it was obvious,"

"That's because it is!"

"If it was obvious-"

"Imperial Patrol Ship, this is Annaj Station."

"Annaj Station, go ahead."

"Imperial Patrol Ship, please state intentions and ID transponder."

Maris turned to Durren.

"Tell 'em we're under orders from Naval Command to dock in order to receive new personnel and orders."

Maris relayed the information along with the code transponder.

"_Imperial Reach,_ please hold while your information is confirmed."

"Just what we needed-more waiting." Durren sighed, and plopped down in the command chair.

* * *

It was several more hours of waiting before Annaj station got reported back, and Durren wondered how much time was spend on the comm with NavCom, and how much time they were merely sitting on their privileged as-

"_Imperial Reach_, please maneuver to 030, and continue into docking bay 12. Thrusters at 30%."

"Roger, maneuvering to 030 at 30%."

Durren nodded at the approximate coordinates. "Take us in, Chasta. Cass, engines at 30%."

"Aye, Ex. 030 degrees, 30%."

Durren watched in silence as her crew obeyed their orders, and soon the _IReach_ was crawling towards the docking bay. All around them were the heavy freighters Cass had pointed out earlier. Durren observed the comparatively tiny supply shuttles ferrying supplies to and from the larger ships. Durren allowed her eyes to scan the viewports, counting the various supply ships and freighters they were supplying.

"What do you think's going on that they need that many supply ships in a dump system like this?" Goran asked.

"Maybe they're launching an offensive against some of the pirate bands around here," Nikki Chasta suggested, looking in the same general direction of Goran.

"Unlikely. Local officials would be losing approximately 40% of their income if they chased out the pirates, and-"

Maris jumped back in his chair and cried out in surprise and pain as Chasta popped him in the shoulder with her datapad.

"Don't get mad at me, those are the statistics! I didn't make them up. If you really want to get mad-"

Goran jumped between the two before Durren had a chance to say anything, or for Maris to finish what he was saying. Nikki, anger subsided for the moment, slowly sank back towards the helm control.

Durren watched as the bridge returned to normal before speaking.

"We've been out a long time. We've taken some rough hits lately, I know. But we are a team. And there will be no fighting among the crew on this ship. Am I clear?"

There was a half-hearted "Yes, Ma'am" as a response. Durren continued to watch them for a moment more before turning her attention back to the viewport.

It had been a long patrol, with even more stress brought on by the death of the CO. And while what Durren had told NavCom about not knowing him for long was true, it was still hard on morale.

And to make matters worse about it all, Durren knew that Maris was right. The local officials were taking kickbacks from the criminal elements in one hand, and ordering the _IReach_ after the same criminals with the other. Durren wondered briefly if the smugglers they encountered earlier had been on the payroll as well. She wished that Imperial Center would take notice and replace the system governors and station managers with honest Imperials. But no one took notice of the cesspool sector that demanded less attention than Arkanis.

She was more frustrated at Imperial Center than angry, though. Assets were tight, and it was a hard sell convincing them to transfer troops to a sector that demanded absolutely no tactical or strategic importance or a densely populated world to defend. In fact, Durren couldn't think of a single attribute that gave the Moddell Sector absolutely any significance in the galaxy at all.

Which brought her mind back to the dozens of heavy freighters sitting in the viewport now.

There was no reason for them- no colony, expedition or front lines to resupply, no hyperspace lane short cut, no major Imperial construction of any sort, or anything else that would warrant the large number of freighters that sat before her.

Rack her brain as much as she could, nothing came to mind.

And she wondered secretly what everyone else on board must be thinking: What if it wasn't sanctioned by Imperial Center?

Shaking the border-line treasonous thoughts from her already stressed mind, she settled in for the last 200 meters or so until the patrol ship arrived at the docking bay.

"Begin docking maneuvers," She ordered Chasta as the _IReach_ reached the mouth of the large bay. "Maris, contact Control. Tell them we're starting docking maneuvers."

Both acknowledged their orders, and Durren could hear Maris relayed the report on the comm.

"Take us in, nice and easy." Durren watched as the light from the station slowly disappeared as the ship entered the dark bay. When the _IReach_ was completely encased inside it, the bay shields reengaged, casting an eerie blue glow on the patrol ship and the bay surrounding it.

"Ma'am, there's a Commodore Mai requesting your presence." Maris told her as the bay began to pressurize.

"Commodore Mai? Did he say what he wanted?"

"He's the new Naval Commander for the Moddell sector." Maris said, before quickly adding "So you should probably clean up before seeing him."

Durren rolled her eyes. "Where is he?"

Maris shrugged. "Didn't say. I'll assume they'll have that information for you after signing the _IReach_ in."

"Fine," Durren said as she re-coded the ships computers and flight systems. After the bay pressurized, Durren dropped the hatch to the outside.

She remained on the bridge as the rest of the crew left it for the station. She wasn't nervous, she told herself. She had nothing to be nervous about, after all. And yet for some unknown reason, she found herself on the bridge completing tasks that could have waited or were otherwise unnecessary. After everything that could be done was done, Durren sat back in the command chair, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the increasing darkness of the bay. Taking Maris's advice, she had washed her face from soot and blood, and had run a brush through her hair, although she had to admit that it had little effect on her over all condition. Taking a moment more, Durren fixed her uniform, brushed a strand of hair passed her ear, and exited the _Imperial Reach_.

* * *

Maris was correct about where to receive directions to Commodore Mai's office. After talking with two mechanics and one very sleazy Ensign, Durren was finally one door away from the Commodore, her new orders and quite possibly the new CO.

And yet she paused.

Her hand was frozen in place, unable to move in order to knock on the unnatural yellowing door. She stood in place, her heart beating in her chest.

And realized that she was afraid. She had never been asked to see a Commodore before. Never before when a new CO was assigned. Not even when she received her Lieutenants commission. The only time she had ever met anyone of any real rank was while at the academy. But this was different, she knew.

Somehow.

Mentally shaking away the nagging feeling at the back of her head, Durren forced her right hand up, and knocked twice on the door in front of her.

"Enter," The voice was deep, with an odd twang Durren hadn't heard before.

Straightening her shoulders, Durren waited as the doors mag lock disengaged and opened. Durren walked inside and stopped before a tall man standing with his back to her. Durren snapped a salute.

"Commodore Mai?" She asked.

The man turned around slowly to face her. He was an older man, perhaps in his late sixties. His short white hair was balding in several patches. While he sported no moustache, a few days growth of beard hung on his cheeks and chin. His uniform was crumpled and dirty, with what looked like several large stains.

Over all, he was the image of military discipline on Annaj.

His office wasn't much better. Dozens of data cards sat scattered on his Republic-era durasteel desk. The walls fared only slightly worse than the door that Durren passed through moments ago. A yellow tint stained the walls, and a single viewport provided the only view to the space port around them.

"Lieutenant Durren? Thank you for coming." The Commodore said before taking a seat at his desk. With a sweep of his hand he pushed the data cards off the desk and pulled a star map from somewhere on the floor. With a touch of his finger, the holomap appeared, revealing the Moddell sector.

"Lieutenant," he said motioning to a corner opposite of where Durren was standing. "This is your new CO. Commander?" He said. Durren looked in the direction of where the Commodore was pointing.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant." The man said before taking a step towards her. Durren offered a salute, which he acknowledged with one of his own.

"Commander Bek Salis," The Commodore introduced, "This is Lieutenant Ishale Durren, Executive Officer of the _Imperial Reach."_

Salis offered his hand to her, which she took.

The new Commanding Officer was tall, just over 1.9 meters, Durren guessed. Unlike the Commodore, his face was clean shaven and he had a full head of wavy brown hair. His uniform was clean, spotless and ironed. Several rank bars sat on his chest. Durren could hardly contain her disappointment.

If there was one thing that spoke to her from his look and behavior, it was that he was Core.

"Pleasure is all mine, Commander." She said, faking a smile and wondering briefly how long this one would last.

"Commodore Mai has been informing me of the _Imperial Reach_'s new assignment." Salis said, motioning to the holodisplay in front of them.

The Commodore nodded. "As you can see, we've got an influx of shipping and transport vessels in the sector. You can see here-" he motioned to a green line stretching through the Moddell sector that ran through several systems, including Annaj-"this is the approximate hyperspace lane through Moddell sector. This is where the vessels will be travelling through the system. Unfortunately, because of the relatively uncharted sections of space, these vessels are required to stop often in order to recalculate the next jump. This of course leaves them pray to pirates or other outlaw gangs. Because of the lack of man power in the sector, I'm assigning the _Imperial Reach_ to patrol this area of space."

"What, the entire hyperspace lane?"Durren asked.

Salis quickly interrupted before the Commodore could answer, or Durren could say anything else.

"Will there be any other Imperial vessels, or will ours be the only patrol?"

"You're all we got." The Commodore shut off the holodisplay, and dropped it back onto the ground. "I've sent the orders to your ships main computer. You can set off whenever your repairs are finished."

The Commodore, reaching in to his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a small case and pulled an object that Durren slowly realized was a death stick out from it. Using a lighter that missed being thrown off the desk with the datacrads, the Commodore lit the death stick and inhaled the smoke coming from it.

Salis raised an eyebrow at it. "Commodore, may I ask what you're doing?" He asked calmly. The Commodore leaned in close to him.

"Are you about to quote regulations to a direct superior, Commander?" The Commodore asked, blowing a puff of smoke into his face. Salis smiled.

"That would be totally unprofessional and an abuse of the power that has been granted to me by the Empire."

The Commodore laughed. "I'm glad that we understand each other, Commander." He motioned to the door. "Now get out of my office and leave me in peace."

Salis saluted before preforming a perfect about-face and leaving the room. Durren skipped the salute, believing the Commodore too busy to notice it anyways.

As the door behind them closed, Durren waited for the outburst from her new CO. Salis simply pulled her aside and quietly asked her if Imperial Center knew of such behavior from the Commodore.

Durren smiled at him. "If you're interested, you could file a formal complaint against him?" She offered.

"I may do just that. I'm not a believer in reporting on superiors, Lieutenant, but such behavior is highly offensive."

"Highly," She sarcastically agreed. Thankfully for her, Salis didn't seem to catch the sarcasm from it.

"Now," He said as he began walking again, "I would like to get to know the crew before we set off."

Durren pointed towards the stations cantina. "They're probably blowing off some steam. C'mon, I'll show you where."

Durren led him around the station, surprisingly relieved at his silence. Other CO's in the past had tried to flirt with her, or worse. A family name and a Core background led some men to believe that the whole Galaxy and everyone in it belonged to them. But this one seemed different.

So far.

When Durren led him to the stations only cantina, she pushed her way past the bouncer, and pushed open the door.

His reaction was exactly what she predicted it would be.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Lucas Arts or any company therein. This was not made for any kind of profit.

* * *

Annaj station only boasted one cantina, but it was more than enough for the small amount of inhabitants. Typically, it was only used by Navy personnel or a civilian waiting for their transport or some low and out of luck soul trying to earn enough creds to buy passage off. The place looked more like swoop gang's favorite hangout than an Imperial Naval cantina. Prostitutes, spice dealers, smugglers and pirates all frequented the place, all vying against each other for customers or marks. It wasn't unusual for strippers or other exotic dancers to set up shop there, preying on the sexually starved and drunken crewers for attention and credits.

Besides the company, the drinks themselves were awful. Death sticks frequently found themselves frequented in a certain year of Corellian ale or even a Jawa juice. Anything from after the New Order was likely to shorten your standards and your lifespan. Cleanliness was farthest from a top priority-patron sat at tables covered in puke and other wastes without thinking twice about it. Glasses were passed from one user to the next without seeing so much as an old rag to rinse it off.

It was this place that the crew of the _IReach_ called home away from home, and it was this place that Durren took Salis to. As she opened the door, she winced slightly at the loud music and the bright spot lights flashing onto the dancers. The rest of the room, while quite dark, was easily seen. Durren turned to see his reaction.

"My god!" He muttered before turning to face her. "This is where the crew is?"

Durren nodded, and pulled his ear close to her mouth.

"Jagen Maris, Communication Officer, is standing next to the yellow Cathar."

"The one that's grabbing his-"

"Yep. Other there," She said, pointing to the far corner "Is Nikki Chasta and Aldor Goran, ships Navigator and Mechanical Technician, respectively. And over there-" This time she pointed in the direction of a Twi'lek stripper having credits thrown at her feet-"Is Salth Cass, ships Engineer. Want to meet them?"

Salis slowly shook his head. "When is the last time they had shore leave?" He asked at last.

Durren raised an eyebrow. That was not a question she had expected. "Little over three months. Why?"

Salis pulled away from her. "Let them blow off some steam. Tomorrow morning-make that evening-I'll meet them and the _Imperial Reach._" He glanced once more into the cantina, shook his head again and left.

Durren stood there watching him go, a small smile on her face.

* * *

The next day, at exactly 1800 standard, Commander Salis exited the station interior and walked into the bay where the _Imperial Reach_ sat. Durren tried to avoid smiling as her hung over crew attempted to stand at attention in a straight line.

"Lieutenant," Salis said, returning her salute before turning to face the crew. He stared at them a moment before speaking.

"Crew of the _Imperial Reach_; I am Commander Bek Salis. I have been instated Commanding Officer of said vessel. It is not my intention to change all the ways you have grown accustomed to working, but rather to increase productivity and thus results. I know that things have been hard for you lately, and that the Moddell sector isn't every fleet officers dream posting, but together we will do our duty as citizens of the greatest civilization in the history of the galaxy." He raised his hand in a salute. "Long live the Empire!"

Durren had to admit, it wasn't the greatest speech ever given but it seemed to do the trick. The wobbly crew returned his salute in an orderly and military fashion she hadn't seen in months.

"Now then, if you would do me the honor of showing me what we have to work with, Lieutenant?" Salis asked, motioning to the open hatch.

"Of course, sir." Durren said, quickly stepping to his side. Salis paused before entering.

"If the rest of you could also follow, I can get a better understanding of how the vessel works."

It was an unusual request, Durren thought. Rather, it was unusual for the _IReach_. Typically, the CO wanted away from the crew and the derelict vessel as soon as possible. Durren allowed herself to wonder if this CO truly would be different.

"Right away we have the storage hold," Durren said, leading Salis into the belly of the Action IV Transport.

Salis nodded his head. "Large space," He commented.

"74000 TM of cargo space, sir."

Salis raised an eyebrow. "Trogan Meters, Lieutenant?" He asked her. Durren blushed slightly.

"2,960 standard Imperial meters, sir."

Salis nodded. "Continue."

"On an average patrol we carry three months of consumables-"

"Isn't that a bit much for a crew this size?"

Durren shrugged. "We can carry up to 14 people comfortably, and there are few friendly planets to replenish. Besides, patrol takes a long time. As you know, a patrol ship travels at impulse speed only. It makes for a long voyage."

"Impulse only? We don't have hyperspace engines?"

This time it was Durren that raised an eyebrow in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Cass.

"We carry a Class 3 hyperdrive, along with the impulse engines."

Durren nodded. "While on patrol we remain on impulse power in order to detect other vessels that may be on the hyperspace lanes or in nearby systems. I assumed that you had experience on patrol ships, Commander."

Salis nodded. "Not before today, Lieutenant. I apologize if it takes time for me to learn the particulars." He turned to Cass. "How is the hyperdrive, Chief Petty Officer?" He asked him.

Cass shrugged. "Fine. I mean, it works only slightly worse than when installed, but I've been meaning to get a replacement. The one we have in was created during the Republic, and-"

"A simple answer will suffice, Chief." Salis interrupted.

Cass squinted his eyes fractionally at him. "Yes sir."

"Thank you. As for the replacement, contact Naval Command and request one. When it arrives, you shall be given the time to replace the old one with it."

Durren didn't even bother to mention the difference between logistics here and in the Core. If he was anything like the others, Salis wouldn't understand it anyway.

"Lieutenant, the briefing I received about the _Imperial Reach_ stated that she was outfitted with twin TIE fighters. May I see them next?"

Durren simply nodded, and tried not to look at the faces of the other crew. She led him through the cargo space to a small stairway that led to the launch bay. Sitting on twin racks on either side of the room were two derelict TIE fighters. Durren recognized the design as the very first TIE model; one that had been designed over twenty years ago.

Salis simply nodded again. "Are they operational?" He asked.

"We're not entirely sure," Goran remarked.

"I assume you can you can explain that answer, Leading Crewmen?" Salis asked, slowly turning to face the other man.

"We don't have any pilots, so we haven't been able to take them out to see, sir. We assume that they are, but have no way of knowing. And even if they were-"

"We would have no pilots to fly them. Understood." Salis finished. "Well, let's see what shape the turbolasers are in."

Durren nodded, and led the group away from the launch and cargo bays towards the bridge of the vessel, before veering off towards a section that split off into two passage ways that travelled either up or down, depending on the turbolaser you chose.

"The reverse polarity of the hull plating insures that, even if upside down, the gunner feels right-side up, allowing him to fire without any added G-forces effecting his aim." Durren explained.

"Thank you Lieutenant, I do know how turbolaser polarity works," Salis said as he peered into the firing pits. "And where are the gunners?"

"Medbay, sir." Durren answered.

Salis turned to face her. "With?" he asked.

"Alcohol poisoning, sir."

Salis shook his head. "Wonderful," He muttered. "Fine. Where's the bridge?"

Durren led him from the gun emplacements to the last stop on the tour.

"Cozy," Salis said as he took it all in. "May I see you at your places?" He asked.

Durren thought the request odd, but nevertheless obeyed it, as did the rest of the crew.

Salis simply stood where he was, eyes going from one person to the next.

"Are all systems operational, Chief Petty Officer?" He asked.

Cass shrugged. "All good here. Goran?"

The Technician checked a few things on the terminal in front of him before nodding. "Yeah, looks good."

Wonderful," Salis said nodding. "Tomorrow we set off." He turned to leave.

"Commander, what about the two gunners in med bay?" Durren shouted after him.

Salis paused. "Find two replacements. If they're stupid enough to drink in that cantina, they can deal with the consequences. Agreed, Lieutenant?" He asked.

Durren didn't agree, but learned not to argue with a man whose mind was made up.

"Yes sir."

Salis left the ship without saying another word.

"That went well," Maris broke the silence.

"At least he didn't leave crying," Chasta said, barely suppressing a laugh. Durren grimaced at the memory of a former CO who simply couldn't take the tour any longer and fled in tears. He was transferred away. Durren felt bad for the man, but it made quite the impression when the crew heard about it.

Crying wasn't the worse reaction from a CO that Durren had faced. Alone with one man while in the bridge, she found herself pushed up against the wall and his mouth on hers.

After her refusal to return the kiss and a swift knee to the crotch, he backed off long enough for Durren to inform the Commander that she simply wasn't interested.

It had been the same Commander that had died on the same bridge just days earlier.

In the words of Maris, it was ironic.

"Interesting man," Durren said, remembering what he said about never having served on a patrol ship before. Apparently, Cass remembered the same thing.

"Curious about him not having served on Action IV's before. Or any patrol ship, for that matter."

"Well he's a criminal." Maris said. All eyes turned to him. He looked up from whatever console he was studying.

"Excuse me, Maris?" Durren asked him.

"Why else would a Core officer from a Core family that has never served on patrol ships but still holds the rank of Commander be transferred all the way out here to serve?" He asked. Chasta slapped his shoulder.

"You always think the worse of people," She complained before standing up.

"We're heading for drinks, Ex. Coming?" Cass asked her as the crew all began to the leave the bridge.

"Yeah, in a minute." She answered, faking a smile at them.

But she wasn't thinking about drinks.

She was wondering just how plausible Maris's logical was.

It was scary plausible, she decided.

Who in the Empire had they set her up with now?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own no rights to anything related to Star Wars and I make no profit from this.

Authors Note: Well! I think this is my longest chapter I've ever written! Man, it took forever...

* * *

"Lieutenant, what is the status of my ship?" Salis asked as he adjusted himself in the command chair.

"All systems report in, sir. The _IReach_ is fully at your command." Durren answered.

Salis cocked an eyebrow at her. "_IReach_?" he asked.

Durren blushed slightly. "Simply an abbreviated name, sir. It won't happen again."

"Actually, Lieutenant, I'm rather fond of it." He turned to face Maris. "Ensign, contact control and inform them that we're departing out 210 degrees for field trials and evaluations."

"Yes, sir."

Durren could hear as Maris repeated the CO's orders, and waited for the response.

"Anything particular you'd like to see today, Lieutenant?" Salis interrupted the relative silence to ask.

"Sir?"

Salis shrugged. "You've know her longer than I have. Anything we need to see if we can work on? And rusty maneuvers? Any technology that needs to be pressed?"

Durren paused, pondering her answer. She had never been asked that before by a CO, and wanted to take full advantage of it.

"Combat maneuvers, sir. With a new CO, I think it would be good to see how the crew and-"

"Sir, we're receiving a distress signal from deep space." Maris interrupted. They say they're a heavy freighter that got sucked into a hyperspace sink hole, and are trapped in a grav trap."

Salis turned to face Durren. "Doesn't sounds very credible; sink holes, grav traps. Thoughts, Lieutenant?"

Durren turned to face Maris. He nodded fractionally at her. _Obviously Maris believes them..._

"Actually sir, due to some of the atmospheric and celestial conditions, hyperspace lanes are known to produce an off-branch into wild space before suddenly ending. And a grav trap could be any number of things, like a-"

"I asked for your opinion, Lieutenant, not a scientific dissertation. Should we divert course to check this out or not?"

Durren held his gaze. "As Imperial officers, sir, it's our duty to investigate any and all reports of Imperial citizens in harm's way." She told him flatly, and waited for the rebuttal.

Which never came.

"Agreed. Helm, get the coordinates from the Ensign. Senior Petty Officer," he said, turning to Cass, "What condition is my hyperdrive in?"

"We could push her to 1.8, maybe 1.6 if we really pushed."

"Then push her. And, in future instances, I would appreciate a "sir" at the end of that, Chief."

Cass exchanged glances with Durren. "Yes, sir." He said.

"Coordinates punched in, sir." Chasta told him.

"Thank you, Sub Lieutenant." He told her. "Punch it."

Durren watched as the view screen in front of her stretched into thin lines, and erupted into a swirling pattern of blue and white.

"Ensign, contact the freighter, tell them we're approximately-" He looked over at Chasta.

"Three hours, sir." She told him.

"Tell them we're approximately three hours away from their position. Tell them to hold on."

"Yes, sir. Imperial Freighter, this is the Patrol Ship _Imperial Reach_. We are three hours from your position, over."

Durren could hear static over the comm system.

"Imperial Freighter, this is the Patrol Ship _Imperial Reach_. Do you read, over?"

More static.

"Imperial Freighter, come in. Over."

"Interesting," Salis commented. "Is the comm system in working order?"

"My system is fine, thank you." Maris replied sharply, before adding a quick "sir."

"Is the hyperspace lane interrupting anything?" He asked no one in particular.

"It's possible," Durren agreed, but not really believing it.

"Very well. I suppose we'll simply have to wait and find out. Lieutenant, where could I find myself a cup of caf?" He asked casually.

"Excuse me?" Durren blurted out.

"Caf. You know, the dark black hot beverage that tastes somewhat like-"

"Yes sir, I know what it is. But is it really appropriate to be drinking it now?"

Salis cock an eyebrow. "And I thought you people were inappropriate," he mused. "We have three hours until we reach the freighter. There is no emergency on board, or anything else going on. Why then should I not have a mug?"

Durren stammered something. "Sorry sir. I was out of line."

Salis stood up from his chair, and straightened his uniform. "Don't worry about it. If I ever seem to be endangering the crew or in any other ways breaking regulation you have my permission to call me out on it." He told her as he turned to leave. "But don't you dare ever do it in public, Lieutenant. I'm in control of this ship. Don't forget that." He quickly added.

"Yes sir." Durren weakly said as he left.

Maris snorted.

"Do we really seem inappropriate?" Chasta asked.

"Don't worry about it, Ma'am." Goran reassured her. "He's just venting."

"He's venting something alright," Maris muttered.

Durren clasped her hands behind her back and stared out into space.

* * *

"CO to the bridge," Chasta said into the intercom system. A few minutes later, Salis climbed up the steps from the hold to the bridge.

"What's up?" He asked as he replaced Durren in the command chair.

"We're exiting the hyperspace lane now, sir. Five more minutes we'll be in wild space."

"Thank you. Could you pull up a chart of what we'll be facing?"

Chasta paused, and looked over at Durren.

"Uh, sir, the reason we call it Wild is because it's uncharted. Besides the lanes, there's not much for information here."

Salis nodded. "So I'm sending my ship into an uncharted area of space frequented by pirates to resque the freighter that, if it existed at all, is most likely dead now?" He demanded.

Durren simply stared at him.

"Fine, take us in. Full impulse." He ordered. The starlines slowly returned to normal space, and the _IReach_ veered off to the right, entering wild space.

"Sensors on full. Give me a wide sweep of all distortions and anomaly's."

"That could be a lot of information," Cass warned. "Part of uncharted means-"

"I know what it means, Chief. I went to academy too. I would appreciate if you would do it, though." Salis turned to face the whole bridge crew. "And I would appreciate if the rest of you would stop questioning my orders, as well. I'm not an incompetent. I did reach the rank of Captain."

There was an awkward silence on the bridge. Durren finally managed to speak up.

"No one means to question you, sir. We're merely trying to help you understand how we do things in the outerrim territories."

"I don't care how you did them; all I care about is how we're going to do them now. Understood, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. Perfectly."

The bridge grew quiet again. Durren looked down at her console to see a message from Engineering. She accessed it, and saw it was from Cass.

_Delusions of grandeur-he just told us he was a Captain while his uniform says he's a Commander. What a wonderful replacement._

Durren deleted the file, and turned back to face Cass, who shrugged.

Durren began to wonder if she was wrong about him…

* * *

Two hours later, the _IReach_ sat outside the coordinates of the freighter.

"Try them again, Ensign." Salis ordered.

Maris sighed, and accessed the comm system.

"Imperial Freighter, this is the Imperial Patrol ship _Im_-"

"Thank the Empire, you found us!" A man's voice shouted. "We thought we were goners when we didn't get your reply!"

Maris nodded to Salis, and transferred the comm to his control console.

"Imperial Freighter, this is Commander Bek Salis of the _Imperial Reach_. Do you require assistance?"

"Commander! Thank the Empire! Yes, we need help! I told you we were in critical condition, didn't I?"

"Yes sir. With whom do I have the honor of speaking to?" Salis asked.

"I'm Hadji Cott, captain of the Imperial heavy freighter _Naboo Nymph_. Listen, we need to transfer all out passengers and cargo to your ship now!" The man told him.

"Understood, Captain Cott. Can you go over what happened to your vessel for me?"

"What! Are you mad! We don't have time! We need to transfer all our cargo and passengers now!"

Salis looked over at Durren.

"They seem to be in critical shape, sir." She told him. He nodded.

"Agreed. But still, something feels…Off." He flipped the comm back on. "In order to better accommodate you, we need to know-"

"Screw accommodation, Commander! We require immediate assistance now!" Cott shouted out at him.

Salis tried one more time. "We need to know the condition of your vessel and any other obstacles before we can attempt a rescue,"

"Commander, for the love of the Empire, I'm begging you to save us before we all die!"

Salis pondered silently for a moment.

"Course of action, sir?" Durren asked him.

"Chief, scan the freighter. Tell me what you come up with."

Salis worked his console before facing Salis and Durren. "Too much interference. It could be the grav trap they mentioned,"

"Or something else." Salis said. "Helm, take us in-slowly."

"Yes sir." Chasta replied.

"What do you think is going on?" Durren asked him as the _IReach _began to cruise towards the vessel in distress.

"I don't know- and that worries me."

Durren slowly exchanged looks with Cass. What was with this guy? Surely he wasn't going to let a ship of Imperial citizens die a terrible death simply because it "didn't feel right."

And yet, as she thought about it, it did feel strange. Falling into a hyperspace sink hole was odd an odd enough occurrence-but shooting directly into a grav trap after that? Not impossible, Durren acknowledged, but highly unlikely.

"Helm, what's the distance to the _Nymph_?" Durren asked. Salis turned to her sharply.

"Lieutenant?" He asked. "What've you got?"

"Um, almost two clicks." Chasta answered.

"Full stop." Durren ordered.

"Lieutenant!" Salis shouted. "Just what are you doing?" He demanded.

"Sir, you told me you didn't feel right about something. You can order the captain to send you his hyperspace vectors and sensor logs, that way we can avoid getting sucked into the trap as well. And once we have them you can have Cass study it to see if they actually came from where they say they did."

Salis stared at her hard. "Ensign, do as the Lieutenant has suggested. Chief; I want that data ASAP."

There was a pause as Cott either contemplated the order, or tried to think of another excuse. Finally, Maris raised his hand in a thumb up signal.

"Alright Chief, make it quick." Salis ordered.

Cass made a few clicks at his console, read over something, and then made a few more.

"Chief, talk to me."

"Sir, data's been corrupted. The strength of the grav trap must have corrupted the encrypt key from the file body, making it impossible to decipher and read."

"What are the odds of that happening accidently?" Salis asked.

"Quite high, sir."

Salis exhaled. "Fine; ready docking bays to transport shuttles, and-" He interrupted himself with a pause. "We don't have transport shuttles, do we?"

"No, sir. We have a docking ring that we use to transport between vessels. It's on the port side of the ship."

"Fine; Ensign, inform the _Nymph_ that we're going to attach our docking tube into theirs and transfer that way."

Maris nodded, and quickly relayed Salis's orders. After a moment of silence, Maris nodded, and pushed the mike from his mouth. "Sir, Cott is telling me that the transports emergency and primary hatches have both been emergency decompressed and blown out."

Salis nodded gravely, but Cass swore hard.

"Chief, Imperial officers do not use such language. Understood?" Salis told him, equally calm.

Cass locked eyes with Durren, who shrugged fractionally. "Yes, sir." He said finally.

"Fine. So we have no transports, and we have no docking tubes. What next? What about the TIE's? Assuming they work, how many people can we get in the cockpit?"

Cass answered before Durren could. "We still don't have a qualified TIE pilot on board, sir."

"Fine; go to the crewmen with the most sim hours."

"You don't understand, sir. No one has any experience at all with a TIE."

Salis nodded again. "Interesting," He merely commented. "'Enviro suits?"

Durren shook her head gravely. "No, sir. None at all."

Salis smiled tightly. "I'll save the regs on Enviro suits until after we save the _Nymph_, Lieutenant. But I want a good answer as to why we don't have any."

"Yes sir."

Durren felt desperate as she watched the _Naboo Nymph_ sink closer into a black void. In the background, she could hear pleading voices echoing from Maris's headpiece.

"Course of action, sir?"

"What do we know about these grav traps?" Salis asked.

Durren shrugged. "Miniature and unstable black holes, I believe. There hasn't been any kind of a study on them that I know of."

"Wonderful," Salis said dryly. "Ensign, order Cott and his crew into their emergency Enviro suits and decompression chamber. Tell them they have five minutes-anything left outside of the chamber in five minutes will be dead."

"Sir?" Durren asked.

"Do it, Ensign."

Maris repeated the orders; twice, actually, leaving Durren to imagine Cott's refusal to do so.

"Ensign?" Salis said.

"They're on their way, sir." Maris reported.

"The docking chamber was blown out from the sudden decompression. The pressures of the inside of the transport and the chamber are unequal, leading to said distortion. Logic leads us to belief that if the pressures are equalized again, the chamber may return to a state normal enough for us to dock." Salis explained.

"Logic assumes?" Durren asked. Salis shrugged.

"If it doesn't work, the _Nymph_ will never know."

"I don't follow," Durren said.

Cass was the one to answer this time. "With a T-115, a sudden decompression doesn't just suck the air out- it blows a hole through the interior deck plating, sending cracks throughout the stronger exterior plating. The grav trap would suck it apart, tearing the decom chamber into empty space, and probably into the trap itself."

"You're gambling with these people's lives?" Durren asked sharply.

"We still have time if you have another suggestion _Lieutenant_?" Salis said, adding extra emphasis on the last word.

"No sir."

Salis nodded, and turned back to the view screen. "Helm, fly us a click away from the freighter. Lieutenant, prepare the gunners-"

"Sir, we have no gunners. You ordered them left on Annaj."

Salis nodded. "Who else is trained in turbolaser batteries?"

The bridge sat empty. "Are you serious?" He demanded. "What kind of a ship goes into action without a replacement for every crewer and duty?"

"Sir, I'll go. I have the most experience with lasers." Cass volunteered.

"Fine; fire a two second blast at quarter charge just one meter below and three meters port of the bridge viewscreen."

"Yes, sir." Cass hurried off, leaving the bridge silent behind him.

"When you're ready, Chief." Salis yelled after him. Several moments later, a single green beam shot out from the _IReach_, skimming the hull of the freighter.

"Don't damage the hull any more than it already is, Chief!" Salis screamed. "It might not make it as it is,"

"Sir, Cott is asking-"

"Silence, Ensign!" Salis shouted at him, staring intently at the slowly vanishing _Nymph_. "Again, Chief."

Two moments later, another green shot sailed across space, hitting the _Nymph_ exactly where Salis had ordered, shaking the vessel as it hit.

But nothing happened.

Salis exhaled, and shook his head. "Good shooting, Chief." He said slowly. "Ensign, contact Captain Cott. Inform him that we will have them safely in our ring in three minutes."

"Sir?" Durren asked, holding up her hand to stop Maris.

"No reason to inform them of their impending death, is there Lieutenant?"

Before Durren had a chance to respond, the hull plating of the freighter shot off towards the grav trap, leaving the _Nymph_ naked and slowly crushed by the sudden decom and the gravity around it.

And the docking ring in perfect condition.

"Helm, full engines. Put us next to the _Nymph_, but not at the risk of us being sucked in as well. Chief, prepare to receive visitors."

"Congratulations, sir." Durren told him.

"Not yet, Lieutenant. We still have to get them on board and get out of here first."

Durren nodded. The hard part was just coming up, she knew…

"Lieutenant, prepare a boarding party. Ensign, contact the crew of the _Nymph_ to wait for your signal before exiting their compression chamber. Order them to engage grav boots, as well."

"Sir, what about the boarding party?" Durren asked him. She could see Salis mentally head slap himself.

"No enviro suits means no grav boots… Wonderful." He sighed. "You'll simply have to hope that the freighters inner hull can sustain the artificial atmosphere long enough to allow you to do your duty."

Durren stood stunned. "Sir, you're not actually ordering us to-"

"Lieutenant!" He spat. "Your very life means nothing when it comes to the survival of Imperial citizens. You gave an oath," he reminded her. "I expect you-and the crew-to remember that oath as they board the _Nymph._"

Durren swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." She said meekly.

Salis turned from her.

"Okay, Cass and Goran , you're with me." She said, mentally cursing her CO.

If the bastard got her and her crew killed, there would be blood to pay…

The two crewmen followed her silently until they reached the docking ring.

"What is he thinking, sending us in their like this?" Cass demanded. "No protection at all. Only a _'hope the hull lasts.'_ What an animal,"

"Hey-let's concentrate on saving these people first, okay?" Goran interrupted him.

"Agreed, Goran. Afterwards we can draw up charges if you'd like."

Durren could feel as the ship trembled when the two docking hatches attached and pressurized.

"Let's pray this works," Durren muttered as Cass entered the security code into the panel, and manually unlatched the hatch, which swung open freely, revealing the bluish-gray tint of the docking tube itself.

"So far so good," Durren said, exhaling sharply. She was already alive longer than she anticipated. "Let's keep moving."

It wasn't long until they were to the _Nymph_ side of the tube. Some more work from Cass had that hatch open, as well. A sharp _hiss_ emanated from the body of the freighter as the pressure equalized. Durren could feel extra weight on her lungs, but otherwise was unharmed.

"Okay, let's go find the crew."

Both Cass and Goran nodded.

Durren's eyes ran through the corridors. She could plainly see the stress tears in the plating, and could hear a creak or groan as the gravity against it tore the hull apart.

"Ex, we'll make better time if we split up." Goran suggested. Durren didn't like the idea, but didn't have much of a choice she decided, and reluctantly agreed. Goran and Cass went to the bow, where Goran would access the bridge, while Durren headed to the stern. She reminded them to contact her if they found any of the crew or the compression chamber, then warned them that if they didn't find anything in fifteen minutes to return to the _IReach. _Both men nodded, and left her alone.

Durren sighed, and continued towards the stern, hoping to find Captain Cott and the crew or at the very least the compression chamber.

With each step that she took, she could feel the ship groan, or another crack to appear on the wall or underneath her feat. She could feel herself mentally counting, and quickened her pace as she did so. The closer Durren got to the stern, the louder she counted, until she was speaking out loud.

She finally reached the far stern of the ship. No one, or anything, was in sight. She sighed, and reached for her comm unit on her lapel.

"Cass, Goran, this is Durren. You guys have any luck yet?" She said, her eyes darting around as the ship creaked from under her.

"EX, this is Cass. No luck yet; I'm doubling back to help Goran out."

Durren rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, me neither. I'm heading forward. Meet you there."

After scanning the ground, Durren carefully retraced her steps before continuing. The ship was much closer to the grav trap, Durren figured. She could feel the G pressures against her body, and tried to remember how long it took her to get from the _IReach _ to the _Nymph's_ stern.

"EX, this is Cass."

Durren immediately stopped.

"Go ahead,"

"I've found Captain Cott and the crew. We're heading towards the hatch now."

"Great! I'm on my way-"

"Durren, there's more." Cass interrupted.

"More? What more?"

There was a pause on the other line.

"I can't find Goran. He's not responding to her comm, either. And no one has seen him."

Durren swore.

"Fine- get those people onto the _IReach._ I'll find Goran and-"

"EX, it's already been ten minutes. The _Nymph_ doesn't have enough time for a search."

Durren swore again, and kicked hull plating-too hard. A chunk cracked around her foot, sending more cracks into the floor where she stood.

"EX? You there?"

"Yeah. I've still got five minutes, okay? I'll be-"

"Durren, head to the _IReach_. There's no time."

"What do you mean there's no time? Goran's a friend!"

Another pause.

"EX, he's going to blow it. Salis is going to blow the _Nymph _up after the initial fifteen minutes. And I don't think he's going to wait."

"_What?_" Durren spat out. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"Four minutes left, EX. Make them count." Cass said before the line went dead. Durren looked around the ship one more time, said a prayer to Palpatine and ran towards the hatch. Her breather was slow-labored. The extra weight on her made her movements jerky and unbalanced. She mentally counted down the four minutes, and knew she wasn't going to make it. Not like this. And the whole time she could hear the screams of the _Naboo Nymph_ dying.

And perhaps those of Aldor Goran, as well.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Lucas Arts, Disney, etc. etc. This is for entertainment only.

* * *

Durren slowly became aware of the surroundings around her. A bright light shone in her face, that much she could tell through her closed eyes. She tried to remember where she was. Her mind slowly began to rerun the events of the day- from the _IReach's_ departure from Annaj Station, the _Naboo Nymph_, Cass and Goran and her searching for the survivors…

And then nothing.

She tried to open an eye, but quickly shut it again as she was blinded by a white light. She gently wet her parched lips, and tried to remember what happened after they went on board.

She could remember Cass and Goran arguing about the new CO – What was his name again? – ordering them onto the _Nymph_ when they had no protective gear. She remembered them splitting up in order to search faster, because the freighter was being sucked into a black hole.

Durren grimaced as her head began to pound with her thinking. She tried to shift in her bed, but her body was too weak. She allowed herself to slowly fall back into unconsciousness…

When she awoke she was back at the Acadamy, standing at attention while her name was read aloud. She tried to blink away the memory, but everything came flooding towards her- the emotion, the shame, humiliation and disgrace. She thrashed about in her bed, screaming as she did so. She felt rough arms grip her tight, holding her in place until the nightmare slowly went away.

Durren weakly opened her eyes to face a human male staring back at her, a curious expression on his face. Durren tried to say something, but the human put one of his fingers to his mouth.

"You've been in a very serious accident, Lieutenant. Do you know where you are?" The human asked. His voice was low and friendly. In one hand he carried a data-pad that he kept referencing for something.

Durren tried to think back. After splitting up with Cass and Goran on the _Nymph_, she went aft to look for survivors…

She winced as her head began to hurt, and she weakly shook her head.

"That's okay," The man assured her. "I'm Dr. Jillon Fash. You're in Camp Twelve, on Thonner. Do you remember any of this now?"

Durren shut her eyes and tried to remember. Thonner, she knew, was a penal colony set up by the Empire for smugglers and low level pirates. The _IReach_ often was ordered to patrol space around it to prevent escapes. But why was she there?

Durren wet her lips before opening her mouth, but was again hushed by Fash.

"Shh, don't try to speak just yet. You've probably already damaged your vocal cords by all your screaming earlier."

Durren nodded, and looked around the sparsely decorated room.

"It's a hospital room- well, what passes for one, anyways. It's the most advanced one in the system-which isn't saying much, unfortunately. We do what we can, though." He smiled, small wrinkles forming around his eyes. "Saved you, though." He checked his wrist chrono before looking back up at her. "Listen, I have to go now. Keep it easy, okay? I'll be back to check up on you later today."

Durren weakly smiled as he turned his back to her and left the room.

When she was alone, she tried to process all that she had been told. She assumed that something had happened on board the _Nymph_-something bad enough that they had to bring her to Thonner to treat her. She squeezed her eyes together tightly before giving up trying to remember. She sighed, and closed her eyes again, hoping that with some rest the fog surrounding her mind would dissipate.

* * *

Minutes morphed into hours, and hours days before Durren finally felt good enough to get out of the bed that had been her unofficial prison and walk around her near-empty room. Dr. Fash helped her about, allowing her to rest on his arm in order to move about.

As her strength slowly returned, so too did her memories. First they came in flashes that came and went, but eventually she was able to piece together the last few moments before her final black out.

She had found nothing in the freighter, and was slowly running out of time. The hull, weakened by the _IReach's_ lasers and the grav trap, was beginning to give way. She ran through the ship on her way to the docking ring when Cass told her that Goran was missing, and that the new CO ordered them to forget him and return. Durren had four minutes before the _Nymph _would be sucked into- no, that wasn't right. She wasn't worried about that. What was it? She racked her brain, trying to remember, but to no avail.

Dr. Fash was no help, either. He refused to discuss it with her in an attempt to exercise her mind as well as her body. But all she tried she couldn't remember.

It was late one night of thinking that Durren slowly realized something.

Goran was missing on the _Nymph._ She had four minutes before the _Nymph_ would be somehow destroyed. She was still alive, though barely.

But what the hell happened to Goran?

She screamed out for Fash, banging her tin dinner plate against the wall until he rushed in to see her.

"What's going on?" He demanded, still groggy from sleeping Durren guessed.

"How many people are here?" She questioned weakly, her voice still weak.

Fash sighed. "I don't see how that has anything to do with-"

"How many of my crewmates are here? How many are you treating? Am I the only one?" She fired questions quickly, until soon she her voice cracked and she began coughing.

Fash poured her a glass of water and handed it to her after she recovered.

"Better?" He asked her. She nodded.

"Good. Now listen- You came here with serious wounds. I didn't think you were going to make it. It's a miracle that you did, really. But you're doing well now. Keep going easy, and you'll-"

Durren did the only sensible thing she could think to do in her current medical state. Unable to yell or thrash about, she flicked her wrist, shooting the contents from her glass towards Fash, hitting him in the center of the face. He jumped back and swore before wiping it off and glaring at her.

Durren leaned in close and whispered to him. "How many of my crewmembers are here right now?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

Fash sighed. "How much of your accident do you remember?" He asked her, for the hundredth time since they had met days before.

Durren lay back down and closed her eyes.

"We were on board a freighter, the _Naboo Nymph._ It was being sucked into a grav trap, and we were the only ship able to help it. Two crewmembers -Aldor Goran and Salth Cass- and I were sent aboard to locate the survivors and guide them to the _IReach._ Cass found them, and had escorted them to our ship. I was on my way when he told me that Goran was missing. I only had a few minutes to find him, and so I set out."

Durren drained the few drops from her glass, which Fash refilled. Durren took another drink before finishing.

"I ran forward, where I knew Goran was last. I remember calling out his name, but I didn't hear anything. Cass was begging me to come back to the _IReach_, but I ignored him." Durren looked up at Fash. "And that's it. That's all I remember. So tell me: How did I get here and where the hell is Aldor Goran?"

Fash sighed, and motioned to Durren's bed. "May I?" He asked politely. Durren scooted over, allowing the Doctor to take a seat next to her. He crossed his legs, resting his ankle across his opposite knee, and pivoted his body to face Durren.

"I was hoping, with time, that your memory would return. And it may still. But in most cases of trauma like yours, the memory of the incident itself is lost."

Durren groaned, and pleaded with him to get to the kriffing point.

Fash smiled. "I suppose sailors truly do deserve the reputation they've earned with their choice of language," He playfully chided. Then he turned more serious. "I don't have all the facts, only those that were presented to me by your Commander Salis, so I may not be able to present a clear picture of the events. Do you understand?"

Durren weakly nodded her head and waited for him to continue.

"Essentially you were thrown into vacuum- empty space. Both you and your fellow crewman floated out in the void for two to three minutes, Imperial Standard Time of course. Your crewman fared better, believe it or not. I believe he was unconscious at the time of his explosive decompression, which saved him from the harsher effects. You however, were quite alive and well. Your body was thrown into space rather quickly, subjecting you to decompression as well. Luckily, you were wise enough to take deep, long breaths throughout, which no doubt helped to equalize the pressures in your body and prevent your lungs from rupturing inside of your body. You no doubt remained consciousness for ten to twelve seconds, after which you too became somewhat comatose. Both you and your crewman were rescued after two to three minutes, and underwent emergency bacta treatments. However, I believe that it was the recompression that saved you both. Your Captain ordered an emergency depressurization to the vessel you were rescued in before you were brought in board. Once both of you were safe, he allowed it slowly raise to normal levels on your way here to Thonner, where you could be better treated."

Fash finished talking and smiled slightly at Durren. "Perhaps my explanation went a bit beyond what I should have shared. I'm often told I lack the talent of normal conversation. Suffice to say, you will both recover completely." He checked his wrist chrono again. "Now promise me you'll get some rest, alright? I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night to see to your needs."

Durren smiled back at him. "Thanks, doc." She said before closing her eyes.

Fash patted her knee before getting up and leaving her alone in the darkness.

* * *

Durren slept peacefully the rest of the night. The next morning Dr. Fash did a quick examination and helped her sit up in bed in order to eat. He explained to her that she was still suffering from decompression sickness and hypoxia. To top it off, she was suffering emotional trauma as well. Fash told her that the sooner she relaxed the sooner she would heal.

"And then you can get out of my hair and maybe I'll be able to sleep the night," Fash told her, a sly smile on his lips. Durren couldn't help but laugh, which ended up in a coughing fit that sent Durren doubling over in her bed and Fash gently rubbing her back.

"Easy there, Lieutenant," Fash warned. "If only I had this effect on everyone. I could have made a killing on the holonet with my comedy."

Durren playfully punched his shoulder as she retained her composure. "It's only because you saved my life, you know. No one that didn't owe you that would laugh at any of your stupid jokes," She told him.

Fash smiled. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree Lieutenant."

Durren rolled her eyes. "We've known each other for how long now, Doc? And I mean you saved my life, right? I think we can move on beyond the whole "Lieutenant" thing, can't we?"

Fash smiled. "Fine. But only if you stop calling me "Doc," too."

Durren smiled, and nodded. "Deal, Jillon." She shifted her eyes from Fash to the tray he was carrying.

"For Empire's sake, can't I have normal food now? These hospital rations are killing me!"

Fash blushed slightly, causing Durren to wonder what she said wrong.

"I said something wrong, didn't I?" She asked softly. "Jillon, what is it?"

He shrugged. "Nothing." He set the tray next to her on the bed. "I'll be back later to pick the tray up, okay?"

He turned to leave. "Jillon," Durren called out. He stopped, but didn't turn to face her.

"Can I talk with someone from my ship?"

She expected him to deny her the request, tell her that she needed more rest and that it would only hamper that. But instead he readily agreed, promising her that someone would be there later in the afternoon.

"But they can't stay for long. Your rest is critical, Lieutenant."

"Hey, we had a deal, remember?"

Fash paused again. "Yes, Ishale. I remember."

He shut the door quietly behind him as he left.

Durren stared back down at her plate. The food wasn't nearly as bad as she had made it out to be. She was simply trying to create conversation with Fash. She was alone in her room close to 20 hours a day- seventeen hours considering Thonner's orbit created a 21 hour day instead of the average 24 hour period on Imperial Center and all Imperial warships. She knew she was supposed to rest, but this isolation was driving her crazy. She spent far too many hours alone with nothing but her own thoughts to entertain herself. She was dying for human contact, and the times that Fash came to visit her were few and far between.

She quickly spooned the grayish substance on her tray into her mouth, choking back the uniform and bland taste until she finished it. Instead of giving her a normal portion two or three times a day, Fash seemed to be giving her only a few bites throughout the day. Durren appreciated this, for the dual reasons that she had the added human contact and she wasn't forced to eat the jelly like material all at once. The gently dropped the tray to the floor, and propped herself up on her elbow. She wondered who it was that Fash would allow to see her, and wondered when they would arrive.

When Fash arrived to trade her empty tray for one with another serving of gray goo, Durren tried asking him who it was that would be visiting her.

"C'mon Jillon! I've been without any human contact for days in a row! I'm going crazy here! Just give me a hint, huh?"

His only reply was to raise an eyebrow. "And what am I, Ishale? Chopped Nerf?"

Durren blushed. "Sorry," She said meekly. "It's just so…Dull here. I've got nothing to do!"

Fash sighed, and shook his head. "Rest! The only way you'll recover is if you rest!" He shoved his hands into his over jacket pockets. "Ishale, you don't seem to realize your true situation here. Without proper rest, your body won't heal. You'll remain weak and sickly the rest of your life."

"What do you mean I'll remain sick and weakly?" She said, scooping more grey goop into her mouth. "I feel fine."

Fash cocked an eyebrow again. "Oh? Can you walk on your own, Ishale? Can you run? Can you plot navigational routes or tactical plans?" He sighed. "You can hardly laugh without facing a coughing fit. Rest." He turned to leave.

"More bacta wouldn't hurt, you know!" She shouted after him.

He didn't say anything back to her.

Despite her arguments to the contrary, Durren was soon asleep, and slept until she heard Fash's voice.

"Ishale, your visitor is here." Durren weakly opened her eyes and stretched. Fash was at her side, helping her stand when Salth Cass appeared in the doorway.

"Hey!" He shouted, rushing in the room. "Hands off," He gripped Fash by his over coat and practically threw the men away from her. Durren's legs gave way without her support, and Cass quickly grabbed a hold of her. Fash quickly disappeared.

"Shavit Cass, what was that for?" Durren demanded.

"You okay, EX?" Cass asked her, allowing her to sit back down.

Durren look into his face. "No I'm not okay! What was that whole-" Her words hung in midair as she stared at his face. He had what looked like a massive burn that covered half his face, enclosing one eye and forming an ugly sneer to form in the corner of his mouth.

"What the Empire happened to you, Cass?" She blurted. Cass smiled warmly at her. "I look bad to you, EX?" Durren nodded weakly. "You haven't seen a mirror, have you?" He asked her quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada.

* * *

Durren stared at Cass silently for a moment, a look of curiosity on her face. As the true meaning behind the words settled in, slowly brought her hands towards her face, rubbing her charred fingertips gently across her face. She quickly dropped them to her lap after feeling scar tissue.

"Cass," She whispered, her hands shaking in her lap. "Cass, what happened?"

He motioned to the bed next to her, and Durren nodded. He sat next to her, and turned to face a wall.

"I would have thought that the Nerf would have told you," Cass grumbled. Durren groaned.

"Cass, enough kriffing riddles," Durren wined. "What happened?"

Cass sighed. "Fine; but only because you outrank me." He continued to stare at the wall, as if Durren wasn't even there.

"I found the crew of the _Nymph_ in the safe room, and guided them all back to the _IReach_. I looked around for Goran, but didn't see him. I tried his personal channel, but still no luck. That's when Commander Salis ordered me onboard the '_Reach _ASAP in order to blow the _Nymph_ to kingdom come. I contacted you, and you- you pretty much went berserk. You shut off your comm. And went off Palpatine knows where, looking for Goran. Meanwhile, Salis ordered the hatch sealed and disengaged and readied the lasers for immediate fire. I told him we still had two people on board,-"

Durren swore. "And he ordered it blown open anyways. The bastard,"

Cass shook his head. "No, EX. He ordered Nikki to set in a course just towards the _Nymphs_ nose, had me and Maris suit up in some of Captain Cott's protective gear then punched it in."

"Punched it in? Punched what in?"

Cass turned to face her. "He ordered Nikki to go to hyperspace, boss."

Durren turned white. "_He did what?"_ She half whispered. "But you said the nav. was set for-"

Cass nodded. "The _Nymph_. Our ship tore a massive hole in the forward portion of the freighter, spilling her guts- and two very lucky crewmen, I might add. Maris and I jumped with static lines attached while Nikki kept the engines at full impulse just to keep us out of the grav trap. We found you two shooting like Bantha piss for the trap and hauled you in."

Durren nodded slowly. "And that?" She asked, motioning to the scar on his face. He smiled meekly.

"I don't remember, EX. A lot was going on. The bastard-" He motioned to the door- "Wanted to take a look at it. Fat chance of that, eh EX?" He looked over at her. "Oh. Sorry."

Durren rubbed her eyes. "How's the ship, then?"

Cass whistled softly.

"We had to jump with full hyperspace power just to get out of there. Nikki piloted it to the nearest system, and good thing too because the hyperdrive is broke down en-route."

Durren nodded, but not fully understanding. She allowed her fingers to gently run across her scars on her face.

"Don't worry, EX. A few hours of bacta treatments and you'll be right as an acid rain on Ryloth, eh?" Cass smiled.

Durren returned the smile, and let her hands to return to her lap. She curled into a ball and closed her eyes.

"Thanks for… Um… Thanks for coming, Cass. It means a, uh, a…" She mumbled.

Cass stood up and pulled her covers over her. "Get better EX. You're a bloody mess,"

Durren smiled, but wasn't sure whether or not he had been joking.

* * *

Durren spent the next several days just as she had done the last ones. Her days were spent in physical rehab, doing once simple exercises with Dr. Fash. Her visits from the _IReach_ were sparse; she received the occasional update from Cass, but was mostly isolated in her room. The few times with Fash became more and more valuable, as the long days stretched even longer when she was able to stay awake for more than six or seven hours at a time.

The rehab was mostly to rebuild strength weakened or lost from lack of oxygen while she was in open space. Fash assured her that it was normal to lose some or even most muscle control. He explained that when she was thrown into space, her brain became oxygen-starved. It tried to conserve energy and life by reducing oxygen to her muscles, which caused her to have to re-learn and practice many motor functions.

"By the Emperor, Jillon! Lecturing isn't going to make me feel any better! I feel like I'm back at the Academy!"

Fash blushed and smiled shyly, before throwing a large ball towards her.

Her reaction time wasn't even close to letting her catch it. It hit the wall behind her, bounced off, went above her head and landed in front of Fash who caught it effortlessly.

"Concentrate, Ishale. Your crewmember was able to-" He stopped suddenly. "Sorry." He said, blushing again.

Ishale faked a smile. "It's okay," She lied. She was vaguely aware that Goran was healing much faster than she was. Neither Fash nor Cass would give her details, but the little snippets of conversation she was able to drag out of the two men led her to believe that she was far behind in her healing time.

She had a theory why, but was too ashamed to admit it to even herself.

She shook the thought away as Fash tossed the ball back towards her. She raised her arms a fraction quicker this time than last, but it was still far too slow. The green ball hit her in the chest, bouncing off to the other end of the room.

"Ishale, are you alright?" Fash asked breathlessly as he stood up and ran over to her. Durren pushed him away with her arms. Her reaction time was getting better, after all…

"Forget, Jillon. Listen, can you come back later? I'm feeling tired."

Durren figured that Fash knew she was lying, but didn't care. He nodded, and helped her to her feet and to the bed.

_Shavit, I can't even walk on my own yet._ Durren grumbled inwardly as Fash helped her into bed.

"I'll return in a few hours with your next meal, alright?" Fash said after Durren laid down.

"Sure."

Fash watched her for a moment more before shaking his head slowly and leaving.

Durren lay on her back, staring up at the white ceiling. She sighed, finally coming to terms with the truth of the matter.

She wasn't getting better.

Goran was. Hell, for all she knew he was back on the _IReach_, repairing the ship after Salis was forced to ram it to save her life.

Her worthless life.

And now? Now she was in a hospital bed, unable to do as much as get out of bed without help.

She had spent years denying it, fighting it, hiding it.

She was inferior. She had no right to be here, fighting for the Empire. She was nothing but a liability. It was because of her that Goran almost died; it was because of her that the _IReach_ was under major repairs in some Podunk world.

She swore, and tried to throw her pillow across the room. It sailed pitifully half way across the room before succumbing to gravity and crashing to the floor. Durren swore again, kicking and thrashing in her bed.

It would have been better if she had died on the _Nymph_. It would have been better if she had never asked to be transferred to Modell Sector. It would have been better if she had listened to her instructors at the Academy and dropped out. She wished she had never met Senior Captain Bahol. She wished she had never set foot out of her village.

Things would simply have been easier that way.

And that's when Durren realized that things truly could be easy again. It was her life that had caused so much grief to her friends. And it was the end of her life that would be the end of their problems.

Durren stopped thrashing about on the bed when her strength left her, and she laid still, sobbing loudly as she realized what she must do.

* * *

Fash returned several hours later, a tray of gray glop for her to eat. Durren knew that he carried a hypo-syringe with a strong sedative/painkiller combo- Durren had watched him carefully measure out an amount before administering it.

"C'mon, Doc!" Durren had once complained. "Can't I get a little more of the good stuff?"

Fash quickly put the hypo back in his jacket pocket. "A little more would send you into permanent paralysis. A little more than that would kill you. This base of this is from a venomous insect here on Thonner. Its venom targets certain nerve receptors. They dull the nerve ends from sending pain signals to the brain at its current dosage/body weight ratio. Anymore and it would destroy those nerves, before finally-"

"Doc! Can I or can't I have more of the magic juice?" Durren interrupted.

Fash frowned. "Gain thirty pounds then come see me."

But now Durren had her chance she knew. Fash walked into the room with the tray in her hands, a grimace like expression on his face. He placed the tray on the bed opposite of Durren, who was now sitting up, her eyes on Fash's jacket pocket.

"Ishale, you've got a visitor. If you at any time don't feel well enough to see him, tell me, okay?"

Durren nodded. A visitor?

The door slowly swung open, and Commander Bek Salis walked in. His uniform was clean, pressed and in regulation conditions in every aspect.

"Lieutenant," He greeted, his deep brown eyes glancing casually around the near empty room.

Durren shot up straight, shooting a salute at him. Fash quickly jumped to her side to support her as she swayed.

"Commander!" She said, surprise obvious in her voice.

"I trust you are well?" He asked, his eyes pausing only a moment at her scarred face.

"Yes sir, of course."

Salis nodded, continuing to look around the room.

"Good, good. Would you say you are duty-ready?" He asked casually.

"Yes sir, of course!"

Salis nodded. "Doctor?" he asked.

"Look at her yourself. She can't even sit straight in her bed without help."

Salis nodded. "She's been here a long time, Doctor."

Fash nodded. "She should be here longer."

Salis raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How much progress has she made?"

Fash lowered his head to the floor.

"You can't help her here, Doctor. You don't have the training, the means or the will to help her."

"Commander!" Fash shouted. Salis raised his hand to signal the other man to silence.

"We've received new orders, Lieutenant. You are to come with us now to Annaj, where you will be treated by real, _Imperial_ doctors."

"Commander, please! She'll never make the trip without the proper help. And unless you have a doctor on board…" He paused, allowing Salis to finish his sentence in his head.

Salis nodded. "Very well, Doctor. Gather whatever supplies you need. We leave in two hours."

"Wait!" Durren shouted. "He can't leave! What about his other patients here?"

Salis shrugged. "None of them are Imperial officers." He turned to face Fash. "Two hours, Doctor."


End file.
